Relic
by Terraform
Summary: Leonardo is lost in the ancient past (based mainly on 2k3 world).
1. Chapter 1

AWAKE

It was a lone chirping that awoke Leonardo to his surroundings. It battled with solace, before sparking into a high pitched squeal, a peculiar noise that escaped its crustaceous body like a miniature whistling kettle. Then a whir of clicking from every direction as the dawn's rays awakened the cacophony of insects from their shallow earth crevices. Leonardo lifted himself from the bundled hemp grass that served as his bed, and looked out of his netted reed silk that bound the portholes, out onto the land that had been his home for countless days. Soggy mud flats fanned around him in endless directions, smeared as far as the horizon went; and within the muddy plains, ancient creatures writhed within the thousands of salty ponds.

There was only one certainty in this new world – not a sign of human life.

'Unless you count me,' he thought.

As far as the eye could see, and in every direction, a world devoid of civilization, but amassed with life forms so foreign that at first he could barely recognize that he was on Earth. Even now he was not completely certain. As if feeling his solitude, a large beetle began to squeeze in through a crack in the window's netting, its back legs flailing as it snagged itself, feelers rapidly whipping along the inner wall. Finally it pushed its way through, scuttled across the grooves of his carapace and onto his shoulder.

_Click-clee-clee-tiiiiiiiiiii-_

Leonardo caught it between his fingers, and gently pushed it back out through the window crack.

"Go on, little guy." He watched as the sheen from its black casing heliographed, before it scuttled away.

From the moment he had arrived, Leonardo knew that he was somewhere entirely different to the Earth he knew. Vaguely remembering a text book that Donatello had kept as a child, he had recognized some of the distinct looking fish, reptilians and invertebrates of the place and at first could not believe it.

'This…this is not my time.' He had concluded in surprise.

And he was right, and although he couldn't remember exactly when, the exotic look of place conjured up images from the book native to many millions years past. Leonardo had quickly learned to seek protection from bites of the freakishly large insect life that seemed to teem from every nook of the planet. He had to quickly set aside any notion of a butterfly effect after losing count of the fist-sized mosquitoes he had crushed against his skin, and the mud beetles he had pulverized underfoot.

Within the first day he had found a grooved outcrop of solid granite, and spent his first night huddled against its leeward side, sheltered against the cool air blowing off the water. The next morning, not willing to suffer another dose of the frigid night air, he had begun building shelter from the only other thing that seemed abundant in this strange world - mud.

Throughout the next week he had worked: his broad hands quickly smoothing down the walls. Flecks of moss and other irregularities peeked out from where he had reinforced the mud with debris littered on the plains. Leonardo had pummeled his frustrations into the construction of the hut; the task keeping both his mind and hands occupied from the gnawing feeling of being lost, and to his mild surprise took well to it. By nights he had eaten the stringy reeds and fish choking the ponds, chewing alone in the uncanny quiet. It was quick work, the clay lending itself well to being shaped, and hardening in the heat to an even fawn grey. His resolve to keep occupied had meant that by the weeks' end he had finished its construction.

"Done." He murmured, patting on the last handful. The hut was sturdy and true. "Look at this thing. The boys would be proud."

He wiped his brow against the back of his forearm, and stumbled back out to the lagoons, rinsing his hands. Looking back at the newly built structure, he admired his handiwork oddly, dubbing it '_koya_'_._

For a hut it proved to be an ideal location that offered broad views of the landscape and protection against the occasional sand filled gales. He was amazed to discover, on closer inspection, that the rocky outcrop it leant against was filled with wondrous crystals and gemstones which rippled through the rock as prolifically as syrup. He could not begin to even imagine it's worth...how ironic, he mused, that it was as invaluable as the mud that surrounded him – perhaps less so, even.

'_If only Donatello were here'_, he had once thought detachedly, '_He would love this place and could probably tell me where I am. _**When**_ I am'_.

As the weeks turned into months, the notion of being lost forever weighed heavily on him. To believe that something other than this had once been his existence was proving to be more and more difficult. _Here_ was where he was. _Now_ was where he was. And his family, his _life_, were so far away.

Tonight, as he sat on the earthen roof of his hut, he watched the swirl of particles in this ancient atmosphere blazing like jewels in the sunset, wondering if his memories of the future were amongst them, drifting aimlessly through the ages.

_Do they know I'm alive? Do they even exist yet?_ The last thought disturbed him and he tried to shut it out.

Trauma will do that to you, he realized, rearrange everything in your mind, things once important becoming as insignificant as specks of dust in a sunbeam. Neurons and synapses re-form in unusual, self-preserving ways, caging your mind to keep it safe...or so he thought.

He would sometimes find his mind drifting back to the events before he had arrived here. He painfully recollected the almost fatal fight he had had with his brother. Raphael - plagued with rage like the internal menace of a thundercloud, threatening to strike at any moment. It was what made him a lethal warrior but also volatile and unpredictable. Their fight on the city roof in the rain- it seemed forever ago now, and in a way it was.

_'And more importantly, I'm better than you.'_

He knew he had needed to say it, to goad Raphael into blind rage. His words were all strategy, and Raphael had believed them. That he had so easily believed had cut Leonardo deeper than he could imagine. In a way it was an act of faith- and as it turned out he had misjudged the depths of Raphael's rage and it had almost cost him his life. But that moment, too, so long ago had also long since faded to dust.

'And now it's gone.' He thought wearily. 'Everything. If it ever happened at all.'

...


	2. Chapter 2

THE WESTERN TREK

Leonardo awoke the next morning, his joints stiff for the first time since his arrival. He had been vaguely aware of the shortening days and the cooler nights, and knew the autumn months would soon be at his heels. He sat on the edge of his bed and began stretching. Slowly he tilted his head to each side, hearing a faint crackle in his neck. He splayed his fingers and toes out then back in toward his chest plate, feeling his blood pulse responsively. He breathed in deeply, rolling his shoulders back and clipping the outside edge of his shell. _Exhale_. With controlled restraint he stood, leaning forwards and resting his palms on the floor. _Inhale_. He let the scent deep into his lungs: the air was rich, and smelt unused but not fresh. For that genuine fresh air, you'd need a veritable forest, and he hadn't seen a forest in well... a very long time. Finally, he released his breath, exhaling slowly, and stepped out into the dim morning light.

He made his way to the crude A-frame he had constructed many months before, a frame where he hung mutant looking sea creatures, reducing them into blocks of smoky flavored flesh. He selected a piece to mix with the roasted root of a plant that grew on the fringes of the lakes. Breakfast.

"Another day, my brothers." He said to no-one in particular,

He ate in silence, craving something sweeter, like the honey coated cereal his brothers would wolf down in the mornings before training; or even something fatty and salty: caramel popcorn, fresh bread slathered in butter, even one of Michelangelo's sugary ice coffees with a slice of double cheese pizza.

He chewed thoughtfully at the fibrous mush, resolving to travel farther to the west today, in search for new foods to expand his currently limited repertoire of fish, weeds and roots. He sighed wistfully, spitting out an indigestible strand. Yes, he needed something better.

From the time he had spent exploring the lands around his hut, he knew the western plains would provide the most challenging journey yet, and he had continuously delayed it in the vain hope that he would have had contact with his brothers by now. But after all this time, he knew he would have to take the risk. If he were to live here indefinitely, it would not be on bread alone, so to speak.

With the day decided, he packed several days' provisions and a crude map of the land he had surveyed. So far he had encompassed land to the north and east of his hut, finding the dust ridden gales much less livable than his current residence. He had, however, stumbled upon a fragrant plant in the northern cliffs that served well as tea, and had triumphantly gathered up large bushels of it every few weeks. The marshlands, on the other hand, seemed to spread endlessly to the south. He had walked for hours along its edges; warded off by both the creatures he could and couldn't see swarming within the brackish depths, and occasionally crossing paths with dismembered limbs from lobsters-like creatures bigger than himself.

Leonardo glanced at the sky, the searing white sun hanging several hours below its zenith. It would still be a while more before he performed his daily meditation, something that he would now have to do on his trek. He scooped up his walking provisions and loosely woven hat, and began his journey into the plains. As always when leaving the hut, he left a note scratched inside the mud that lined its interior: '_Headed west. Will return. L.'_

_Just in case_, he thought.

With a quick nod he stepped out into muddy plains. His feet sunk into the grey squirmy ground leaving clear prints, his two toes imparting his direction like a compass. It took several hours at a steady pace in the damp heat for the marsh flats to change to a dense and low lying scrub. He began his journey up the slight incline of the land, frequently sipping at his water sac. The bushes were unlike any vegetation he had seen before; they were almost cartoonish in their exaggerated form. Huge drooping fronds brushed at his thighs, and insects swarmed around the detritus and putrid leaf matter. Jagged swathes of rock jutted out randomly, proving to be deceptively steep and much to his annoyance, fist-sized crustaceans he labeled _crab-roaches_ would occasionally burrow up from the earth and nip at his feet. He had avoided and crushed a great many, spearing a horned river crayfish that he knew to be good for eating.

Finally, in a little enclave, he stopped to rest. The minutiae of the surroundings that he had blocked out with his own thoughts came flooding into his senses- the odd noises of hidden creatures that infested this strange world, the sound of the streams that threaded through the landscape like veins, trickling around him, the rhythm of his breath slowing as he rested. The sun now hung at midday, he squatted on a smooth patch of earth and stared at the ground, beginning his mantra.

"My name is Leonardo. I have with me my mind, my body, my katana. I will get back to my family. Master, my brothers - I will return. I promise you that."

He unsheathed his katana holding it flat in his hands, like an offering to the gods. The sun glinted blindingly off it, and he twisted it around so that its sharp edge faced him.

"Sensei. My brothers. I will return." He slipped his sword quickly back into its holder.

"I will." He whispered it resolutely to himself, and with what he hoped was the conviction that it would come to pass. He tightly shut his eyes in frustration, trying to reach for them. He fell to his knees in the shale, and hung his head.

_Master, I am here. I am alive._

Nothing, save the endless drone of the insects.

Only after some time had passed did he open his eyes to the searing light of the day. He stood slowly, unanswered, and continued to make his way along the rocky embankment, step after step, mile after mile, into the west.

It was late in the afternoon when he decided to set up camp. Leonardo set light to a small pile of kindling, gradually building a healthy fire, and set the skewered crayfish upon it to roast. From within his woven satchel he took out of gnarled tuber, burying it beneath the ashes. He listened to the fire crackle, trying to empty his mind of all but the task at hand. After several minutes of it sizzling, juices streamed and popped from the joints of the crayfish, hissing on the fire. He lifted it from the heat and began to peel the shell from the sweet flesh. With his belly full and in the last heat of the day, he settled into a shaded nook and dozed off.

"Leo!"

He opened his eyes suddenly at Michelangelo's urgency. He couldn't quite grasp where he was at first.

"Mikey?" he muttered, still waking.

Then the sound of him calling through cupped hands: "_Leo!_"

"Mikey! Where are you?" he stood up hastily.

A shadow emerged from the fern brambles, revealing his brother, nunchaku holstered at his side. He looked stronger, more solid than when he had seen him last, the winter months must have truly hit New York, then.

"Mikey! It is you!"

He got up and stumbled toward his brother, encompassing in a hug.

"Hey bro, easy. You're breaking my shell." His lighthearted grin beamed at him.

"I don't believe it!" his throat tightened. "What are you doing here?"

Michelangelo looked agog at his brother, "To get you _out _of here, bro. What else?"

"No, I mean, how did you— okay, never mind, just how do we leave?"

Anxiety flitted across Michelangelo's face. "There's something we gotta do first bro. You've got to help me find Klunk."

Leonardo stopped short.

"What? Mikey, we've got to get back."

"Please, Leo. It's Klunk, its _family_. I mean, I couldn't stop him, he just shot in through after me."

For the first time Leonardo noticed he was holding a box of kibble and frowned in disbelief.

"Okay, but let's get this over with as quick as possible."

"Thanks bro." Michelangelo's face relaxed back into his easy grin, as was apt to do when twisting people around his little finger. He scratched at his leathery cheek absently, as if recalling trivial information. "I think we've only got fifteen minutes before the portal checks out. So, we gotta find him fast."

Leonardo nodded.

"Where are the others? Are they here with you?"

"No, no. Only one of us could go through, Don has to be on the other side to operate this thing and Raph busted up his leg pretty bad last week when we ran into some stray foot lurking in the sewers. Don't worry about him, though, you shoulda seen what happened to _them_." He chuckled deviously.

"Right. Then let's get moving. I'll look to the left, you go that way." He indicated into the low shrubs at the base of the glen. "Circle around and we'll meet back in the middle in ten."

Michelangelo saluted jovially.

"Man, Leo, it is _good_ to see you again. It's only been forever."

Leonardo exhaled, a heavy weight taken from his heart.

"It feels like it, brother." He briefly patted Michelangelo's shoulder and began his search for Klunk.

Michelangelo walked the opposite direction and started rattling a box of ocean-flavored kibble.

"_Here_ kitty, kitty. _Kluuunk_, where are you, you itty bitty shit-head?" He stepped back into the brambles and out of sight.

Leonardo scanned the lower ground for any sign of the tabby fuzz ball. His mind raced, as the influx of emotion took him by surprise, but was cut short as a streak of orange fluff caught his peripheral vision.

Quick as a flash, he headed for where he had seen the cat. He cursed silently as it disappeared amongst the fronds. Again, from the corner of his eye, he spotted a whip of a cat tail. He nimbly leapt over the terrain and towards it.

"_Klunk_." He hissed, bolting towards the distance. He stopped short, scanning undergrowth.

"Klunk?"

He turned on the spot. Nothing. A searing pain tore through his head. He groaned, and hunched over in agony.

"Mikey!" he yelled out. "He's over here."

The pain eased off a little, as sparks flitted into his vision. He looked back from the direction he had come, waiting for his brother.

"Mikey?" he called out again.

The balmy heat had induced a damp stillness into the day, and his voice carried far. No reply. He stood erect, ears pricked for any sounds of his brother. A full minute passed, but all he heard was his slowing breath and sluggish chirping of a single insect. He frowned and quickly made his way back towards his makeshift camp. He called out to Michelangelo again, but was greeted with a silence that seemed to gape with sharpened teeth. Finally he walked back into the clearing. He drew his katana, almost reflexively, his eyes following the line of his sword as he circled it around him.

"Mikey, I hope you're not kidding around." He said apprehensively.

He came to a stop and wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm, sword still in hand.

"Jesus, where is he?"

His arm was shaking uncontrollably, rippling down through his sword. He snorted at the sight; not remembering another instance in which his nerves had affected him so much.

Instinctively came the thought: '_Track him_.'

He looked down to where he had first seen him appear. The ground on which he had stood was unmarked, the thin clay around the fire was free any footprints, save his own.

A prick of fear hit him. What the hell had just happened? He closed his eyes, thinking. If there were no footprints, Michelangelo could not have been standing there. If he was not standing there, he was not there at all, right?

_'Must think clearly. What else was there? I mean, he was right in front of my eyes, I hugged him , he was _right here_. Wait. No…the cat food- how could he have known if Klunk came in after him? But he was right here, right in front of me…wasn't he?_'

He ran the direction Michelangelo had headed, calling his name. Still no answer. He circled back toward the camp fire, still empty handed.

Leonardo collapsed, conflicting thoughts coursing through his brain. Could he have imagined the whole thing? Was this place finally getting him? He looked at the tangle of prehistoric vegetation around him, the strange leaves and thick vines that twisted through the uneven ground. It seemed to be watching him with ancient eyes, the tendrils threatening to reach him, ensnare and strangle him, to drag him to his death in this ancient land and purge him from this time.

"No!" he screamed. He jumped back up, hacking at the vines near him, shredding them to pieces. He stopped, exhausted. "No…" his voice trailed off as his emotions overwhelmed him. His katana hit the earth with a gentle thud, and finally, he knew. His brother had not been there at all.

…


	3. Chapter 3

INTERLUDE

Weeks had passed since the day in the west. From this side, the whole thing seemed as if it never happened at all- just like the future, motes of dust in this ancient atmosphere. If anything, it had provoked a deeper longing for his family, but Michelangelo always managed to foster that sense of kinship amongst his brothers, perhaps more than any of them. Leonardo had stayed on at the campsite for a further two days, combing through the bushes for anything concrete to what he had witnessed, hell, to what he had _heard_ and _felt_, but a heavy downfall the first night had fell a wet curtain that washed away anything that may have remained – fur, footprints, even a measly pebble of cat food.

Defeated, he finally decided to head back to his shelter, taking with him a small stone from the site, a memento of his time that he kept on his window sill. He had placed it just so, so that when the acid white moon sent a shard of light into his hut, it would catch the silver rays like glass. He was offered some small comfort by this talisman. Occasionally, in the darker moments, he would hold the stone, twisting it round and round in his hand like a Rubik's cube, the smooth side cool against his calluses, the rough side catching on his skin, the answers unyielding. What had happened to him at the campfire had deeply troubled him. For those two days at the site, he had hoped he was wrong but with every meticulous scout of the area it seemed more apparent that the appearance of his brother was nothing but a mirage to his starved mind. He placed the stone back onto the sill and exhaled deeply, staring into the darkness, until finally he let that take him, too.

…


	4. Chapter 4

RELATIVES

Deep into the night, a low growling broke the quiet, the sound of something heavy sloshing at the pool fringes disturbing him from his slumber.

_Thump!_

"Mikey. Turn down the t.v." he muttered half asleep.

_Thump!_

His eyes flickered open in alarm. Now fully awake, he remained motionless; trying to gauge what was outside in the dark.

More sounds – this time the movement of something very large and heavy being dragged in the shallows. The thumping took on the regularity of footsteps, and began moving closer to the hut. Whatever it was, it was big. Leonardo decided to chance a look. Slowly, he sat up toward the porthole, one hand positioned within arm's reach of his sword. The moon, now hung in its peak in the clear night, pooled a silvery soup onto the land, so that the ponds seemed to reach to infinity. It revealed a massive form, crocodilian in nature, with an enormous domed shell protecting its back. Leonardo guessed that he himself was not even the size of its head. Leathery black skin covered the beast , crackled like a hellish mosaic. Water glimmered and trickled the long way down its body, back to merge into the ponds. The splashing sound, he quickly surmised, was the result of the enormous tail that flailed out behind the beast. The creature opened its maw wide, releasing a shrieking wail, and then thumped its tail back into the ground, splashing the brackish water all around the shore and making the hut shudder.

The smell of the smoked fish just fifty feet from the hut suddenly intrigued the beast. The beast languidly craned its head toward the frame, its nostrils twitching rapidly at the foreign smell. A slick oily tongue whipped out from between the jagged teeth, plucking the top row of fish. The creature grumbled satisfactorily, continuing to plunder the frame.

"Easy boy," Leonardo whispered to himself. "Just keep looking that way." Leonardo picked up his swords, and crouched at the foot of his bed. He considered running, but could not risk the exposure in the marshlands- if it were fast, there would be nowhere to hide. Far in the distance, another reptilian wail split the night, followed by a chorus of replies. The shrieks that they produced were followed by guttural grunts, throaty and short. Tipping his swords to the window, Leonardo caught a reflection of the scene outside: as far as the eye could see, lined all along the edge of the lake pools, hundreds of the giant beasts emerged onto the shore. With powerful claws, the creature closest to the hut began digging into the soft grey earth. It grunted in short bursts before it positioned itself over the hollow. Large eggs softly plopped into the sandy mud where the creature had dug. Exhausted, the creature began covering the nest.

Leonardo silently watched, awed by the magnificent sight.

"Wow." He breathed out. "I guess I meant to say ma'am."

It brought him an unexpected comfort to witness what were probably his ancient ancestors, living and breathing before him. The young whom would soon hatch would be just one generation of the millions before of the loneliness inside him ebbed away, as he watched intently, transfixed by the large dinosaur turtles. All along the vista, the mass of creatures continued burrowing, scooping at the ground and burying their freshly lain young, glistening white orbs in the earth. Before the morning rays hit, just as suddenly as they appeared, every last one of the creatures slipped back into the water in a rustle of growls and splashes but it would be many weeks yet before he would awaken again to the sound of thousands of the offspring burrowing to the surface, hastily ambling across the shore and slipping quietly into the water.

The silence resumed.

…


	5. Chapter 5

BROTHERS

Leonardo awoke feeling more reinvigorated than he had in months due to one of his latest discoveries - growing by the freshwater lagoons to the east he had found a white fruit that tasted vaguely of melon. He had sat by the melon bush for nearly an hour, splitting them open on a rock edge and consuming the soft flesh until he felt bloated. The extra sugar had meant that for or the first time in ages his body sang with new found energy, and in order to channel it, decided to extend his afternoon training session. He practically bounced over to the clearing that he had marked out near small rise to run through his basic training exercises. Here he had impacted the ground here to a hard flatpan, and was amused by the thought that he had caused the first sign of "ninja" disturbance.

The training warm-up began with a single katana, from which he began free forming his practice moves. With controlled strength, the blade whirred frenetically in the air by his head. He bounded easily over to where he had rested his blade's twin upon a mound, his active sword slicing into phantom threats. With uncanny grace, he flipped over the mound, his hand darting out and plucking up his other sword. He landed with one blade tip in front him and the other defending his otherwise exposed flank. His breathing was hard, and gradually it slowed to an even pace.

"That all you got, bro?" The sound of Raphael's voice sliced through his concentration. He did not let it show, continuing with the form.

"You must been getting _soft_ livin' all alone in the dark ages."

Feeling that he had gotten under his skin, Raphael continued.

"Guess we didn't really need you after all. It's like I've been saying all this time, we don't _need_ no leader. Of course, you could try and prove me wrong. And don't even _think_ about holding back this time."

Leonardo snorted angrily, not turning to the source.

"What? You think I didn't _know_ you were tryin' to get me ta fight ya the other day up on the roof? Lemme tell you somethin'. Anytime you wanna go, I'm happy to wipe that smug look off ya face, just for the hell of it."

Leonardo picked up pace of his training, the swords were now flailing with deadly accuracy. He continued through the last of his kata, the twin katana becoming lethal extensions of his arms, plotting and carving precise routes into the air. They glinted in the air, and Leonardo found himself briefly catching the green form of his brother in their gleam.

"_Ki-ya!_" he screamed as he stopped them short of his arm's full extension, the force enough to cause the air to whistle.

"Raph. You had better be ready if you're planning on attacking." he growled.

"That a threat?" the voice taunted.

"Kind of, yeah."

Raphael: "Well, that's more like it." An evil joy filtered through his snicker. Leonardo heard the scraping sound of sai being withdrawn from his belt.

He spun on his heel in an instant at the sound of his brother rushing him. Raphael roared with fury, his steps pounding as he charged. A strange calm came over Leonardo, his swords poised for the strike. The blur of Raphael came toward him so fast that the only thing Leonardo could see were the tips of his sai homing in on him.

"Make it count, Raph." he said to himself.

At the last crucial second before impact, Leonardo dropped his swords by his side, leaving himself exposed to the attack head-on. He relaxed completely, waiting for the lethal blow.

But the shadow kept charging, passing right through him, then was gone.

Leonardo stood several moments more, waiting. He hung his head briefly, the intensity of the moment dissipating instantly.

"Is that it?" he asked the emptiness sadly.

He felt strangely robbed of his right…but his right to what? To fight the brother he longed to see? To finally have another soul besides his own in this barren world? He shook the idea off. Futile, mentally redundant nonsense. He would continue to do what he had done since he arrived. Survive. It was his plan since his arrival. It was all he could do.

But he would finish this here and now.

"Raphael, why don't you come out and _fight_ me instead of hiding like a coward? _Fight!_" he screamed, his voice carrying far across the plains.

Silence.

Leonardo laughed emptily. His eyes traced the muddy horizon and saw nothing. It was as he had expected.

"You'll have to do better than that, brother."

He shakily slid his katana back into their straps, took the cleaned shell of a long eaten _crab-roach_ and went to the linked finger ponds to drink. He dropped a knee to the ground by the silvery fringe, and scooped up the crystal water. It trembled serenely in its new shape. He sipped, testing its purity, before slamming it down thirstily.

_'I can't escape it,'_ he thought bitterly, dashing water onto his face.

The rippling image of his brother appeared in the water before him, and instantly he launched himself into the reflection, falling deep beneath the surface. The icy water rushed his senses, shocking his body. He relaxed, letting his body sink, the coldness slowing his heart, freezing his blood, making him drowsy. Drifting gently at the surface was his water scoop. He held his breath, watching it float slowly toward him like an angel through the cold.

_Just sleep_… something whispered to him.

_'Yes.'_ He thought tiredly as he drifted deeper, _'I just want to sleep. And wake. Home.'_

Hazily his mind flashed back to the moment he had first arrived…

...


	6. Chapter 6

ARRIVAL

_He awoke in the mud, his body aching all over, his head pounding relentlessly. The wafting scent of ozone and sulfur rich air engulfed him, burning deep within his lungs. Dazed, he somehow managed to roll onto his plastron and prop himself up onto his knees in a slimy puddle, coughing until he spat out blood. He wiped his forearm along his mouth, frowning. Another spasm of coughing hit him, and he leaned over, trying to regain control of his nauseously throbbing stomach. _

_'Where the hell am I?'_

_He looked up. Around him he could see nothing but swampy plains in every direction. At first he had no idea what had happened or where he was. He began trying to figure out his movements before arriving at this place, the last time he had seen his brothers, but his mind still swam in a cloud of disjointed memories. As the last of the light seeped beneath the horizon he finally began to piece together his last moments: at the laboratory of the Utroms _

_Yes, he was quite certain of being in the TCRI confines of their alien allies._

'_I was going to Mortu's lab. He had specifically asked for Donnie's help. But he forgot some notes. I went to take them over. I can remember walking there but then-'_

_Then - a flash of light, the push of intense heat, nothing. _

_How long he was out, he could not be certain, but the dryness of his throat that screamed for the slaking of cool water gave him the clue that it had been at least hours. He staggered several feet away, to a trickle of a stream and drank deeply. He attempted to rinse off the mud that had caked heavily to his body, the muddy streams ribboning out into the earth. Woozily he had stood to his feet, trying to seek something normal for his mind to latch on. _

_'My katana!' he thought in alarm. He reached back and touched the hilts behind him, leaving them reposed._

_As he went to stand, a sharp pain in his knee caused him to buckle. He grimaced in agony._

"_Okay. Have got to get a grip. " He limped in the twilight to a thicket of bramble, the only solid vegetation around, and rested against a thin trunk. He sat there, thinking. Thinking of his next move. Thinking of what he must do now. And right now, he needed to rest. He needed to stay put. And he needed to focus._

_And he did, unsteadily at first, warily adjusting to the strange world around him. The irony had only hit him later that he had left one cesspool and delved right into another. _

_And it had all led to this point - tired of the fight, falling through the water._

…


	7. Chapter 7

_Sleep, Leonardo. _

He sank deeper, drifting beneath the water's surface, as the voice grew stronger.

_Sleeeeeep…_

'_No!' _anger flared up from deep inside of him.

He began kicking toward the surface when something from the darkness below slithered around his leg, holding firm. With his lungs burning for air, he slashed at the gelatinous tentacle. A hazy pain began to overwhelm him as he quickly swam towards the watery ceiling. Suddenly a green hand darted beneath the surface, dragging him onto the shore. Leonardo rolled himself onto the banks, gasping for air. Raphael stood hovering over him.

"Don't sleep in the water, bro. It's gettin' cold and ya cold blooded, thought you'd remember that. You sleep in there, you don't get up. Get it?"

Leonardo nodded, still breathing heavily, feeling oddly rebuked. "I messed up. I won't again."

"Good."

Leonardo looked up to see that he was alone. He shivered uncontrollably, the dimming sun doing little to warm him. Shakily, he arose, and made his way back to the hut. In a zombie- like trance he brewed some tea with the last remaining leaves. Night descended quickly, like an inky shawl over the land. He drank deeply from a carved wooden cup, staggered into bed and slept.

...


	8. Chapter 8

MIND OVER MATTER

The days wore on in a grind. After the episode with the apparition of his brother Raphael, Leonardo had set himself to doing menial tasks in order to gain some control on his decaying reality. First and foremost was preparing for the coming winter. The days were beginning to grow shorter and cooler, and even the ever present soup of insects had seemed to thin. He had no idea of what to expect living so close to the water. He would not have enough wood here to burn, that was for certain, and if it grew cold enough to ice the water over, he would not survive. He began patching up the thinning outer walls with handfuls of fresh mud, focusing on strengthening the structure. He had also started drying woven reed mats on the A-frame, to eventually to be pinned on the inside of his hut. On the second day of repairs, during the stillness of noon, he stopped short.

_'If I don't work faster, I'm going to need to move further to the north.'_ He finally concluded.

He dropped the bale of dried hemp he had gathered near the entrance to his home. When it came down to it, the main reason he had chosen to stay so long at the hut boiled down to sentimentality. But now, it would be easier to move closer to the low ranges, more wood, more caves…more things with sharp teeth. But it was here, _here_ that he had arrived. If any kind of rescue was coming, it would likely to trace him to the very spot he had awoken and despite the thought it would never come, the hut served a touchstone of his former life and a link to his hope of rescue.

_'One more week.'_ He decided. _'I'll winterize the hut, just in case I need to return.'_

Only days later Leonardo was returning from a scout to the north having collected some supplies for the winter. He still had a half day of travel to go, and he was glad to have found a ready supply of what he was seeking: tea, iron wood, and sticky amber which helped fortify many of his utensils, ropes and tools. A strong breeze laden with sand was at his back and had been for most of the journey. He stopped to rest alongside a randomly placed rock, large enough to sit alongside and out of the wind. Little else could be spotted on the hillock and he took it was a sign to rest and get rid of the headache that had snuck up on him in the last hour. He procured his water sac from his bag, and tipped his head back to drink deeply; hoping the stabbings of pain at his temples would right themselves quickly. Looking back up he saw a sight which at first he could not believe. The dusty sky only gave clue to who it was as the figure approached closer.

"No." he said under his breath. "It can't be."

Approaching steadily was Donatello – a mutant with a mind like the sharpest of incisors. Analytical, logical, Donatello. That he would appear as an apparition seemed an abomination to what he knew his brother to be.

"Leo!" his brother yelped, equally surprised.

"Not you, too." He pressed hard onto his eyes at the splitting pain.

With a cry he flipped himself onto his feet, katana held firmly at his side.

"GO AWAY!" Leonardo yelled out to the phantom of his brother.

"Leo…what are you-" Donatello was cut short by a slice aimed directly at his abdomen. He dodged at the last crucial second, simultaneously freeing his _bo_.

Donatello swung the staff into a defensive position, swatting away the blows.

"Leo, will you stop it!"

A whir of katana seemed to pass by Donatello's side in slow motion, the arc of the blow slicing the electrical equipment that he had just brought with him. Donatello looked on in horror.

"The locater!"

"There _is_ no locater!" Leonardo screamed. "There is nothing! _NOTHING_! So just GO!"

"Not anymore there isn't." Donatello snapped.

An infuriated growl escaped Leonardo "You are NOT my BROTHER!"

"_What?_!"

Leonardo growled, charging back into an attack. Seeing his chance, Donatello swung his bo low to the ground, knocking his brother onto his back. He thudded painfully onto the mud, sinking into a dirty puddle, groaning.

"Leonardo, it's me! Donnie! What the heck are you trying to do?" He held his bo defensively before him.

As quick as lightning, Leonardo flipped himself up, kicking his katana back into his grip. Donatello breathed in sharply, recognizing an imminent strike. Leonardo raised his swords charging.

"No wait!" Donatello gasped. "_Octopus_!"

Leonardo froze within striking distance.

"You don't like octopus!" Donatello continued frantically, "Mikey cooks it with chilli, but you never eat it. Raph likes watching old kung fu films and has torn apart his punching bag at _least_ five times, Splinter makes us do knuckle push-ups every time we drop a dish, and…and it wasn't Raph that broke your bokken when we were kids, it was me!"

Leonardo frowned, relaxing his swords.

"What?"

"I'm trying to convince you that it's me - I installed the lair security system eight years ago… I like anything covered in cheese… my favorite book is-"

"No. You'll just disappear like Mikey and Raph. I can't take the false hope anymore. Not anymore."

"False hope? Leonardo, I'm real, I'm _here_. I promise." Donatello pleaded. "How can I prove to it you?"

"You have no idea how much I want to believe that." His croaked, wiping mud from himself.

Nodding, Donatello answered: "Well, try me."

"Okay." Leonardo breathed in sharply, "Who won the world series?"

Donatello blanched. "Uh, I don't really follow-"

"Sports. I get it. What about President?"

"Same guy, actually." He shrugged.

Leonardo shook his head dismissively, "This is somewhat asinine, isn't it?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I could tell you anything, real or not. How would you prove it, right? I could perhaps lecture you on the finer details of the recent engineering marvels of Utrom technology-" He paused to consider this, "…_but_ I guess whether or not I was actually accurate would almost be incidental– it would probably sound all like gobbledy gook to you. If I may presume that you are not up to scratch on intra-dimensional transference biotech, that is."

Leonardo squinted hard at his brother, his shoulders visibly relaxed.

"Don't worry. I think you convinced me."

"That's a shame. I was _really_ looking forward to using my lecture voice."

"So. You're really here?" he braced himself warily.

Donatello gave his brother an even stare.

"I'm here. I'm really here." He confirmed in a monotone voice. A small smile crept on his face.

Leonardo stepped toward his brother, capturing him in a strong hug, Donatello returning it with equal vigor. Finally, he held him back at arm's length, making sure that this time that he would not fade into the mists of his corrupted reality.

"It took you long enough."

Donatello grinned, "It is really good to see you too, Leo."

"I'm so sorry. I don't know my own mind anymore. It's this place - I've been seeing things."

He began picking up his provisions left near his resting place. Donatello bent down to pick up the mangled shards of the beacon, and frowned.

"What, exactly, have you been seeing?"

Shaking his head, he answered: "Ghosts, I guess. It doesn't matter anymore."

Donatello's voice softened. "I can't say I'm surprised. You've been stranded here for over a year now. That does things to your mind."

"Has it been that long already?"

Donatello nodded sadly. "Fourteen months, eight days. In our time, anyway. I'm not exactly sure for you."

"It feels like forever." Leonardo sighed wearily, his heart heavy. "I just want to go home."

It was Donatello's turn to look stricken "I hate to say this but we have an unforeseen problem with getting home" he held up the broken beacon pieces before stashing them in his knapsack, "But I brought some medical supplies, maybe I can help with your hallucinations."

They began pacing through the mud towards the slightly drier earth where a short smooth grass had blanketed the ground as Leonardo recounted his visions. He mulled on Leonardo's words.

"It could be caused by a variety of factors. Not just the isolation. You've also been through a major temporal disturbance. It could be affecting you hypothalamus gland function, and well, the way your brain has been chemically processing the environment around you. These kinds of experiences have been vigorously documented by the-" he paused for breath, "and you probably don't want a sermon on this, right?"

"Don." Leonardo said, practically choking on his own voice with happiness. "You have no idea how good it is to hear you again."

Donatello looked at his elder brother askance. "I missed you too, Leo. All of us did." They walked in silence for a bit, Donatello occasionally distracted by the strangeness of his surroundings.

Leonardo broke the silence. "So it was you that broke my bokken, huh? All this time I was sure it was Raph." He chuckled lightly to himself.

Donatello stopped in his tracks, his face riddled with guilt

"It's my fault that you're here, Leo. My fault." His face contorted as he held back tears. "When you came to the lab, one of the temporal experiments must have overloaded. It sent out a blast of residual energy and your katana must have attracted the electrical surge. If only I hadn't forgotten those notes, if only I could just have gone back myself – this never would have happened."

Leonardo furrowed his brow as the missing pieces finally came together.

"The professor and I have been wracking our brains from the moment of the implosion to find you. And also - we've tried reaching out to you, Leo. Mikey, Raph, Splinter… all of us. We didn't think…we didn't know if…" Donatello stopped, swallowing hard. He snorted disdainfully, "I can't even string a set of words together. What does that tell you?"

Leonardo rested a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. "It tells me we have a lot of catching up to do. Besides, look around. It's ancient history." With just those words he graciously diffused his brother's pain. Leonardo considered nothing that needed forgiving, and the matter done. He started walking towards his home. Donatello managed a weak smile, and followed in his brother's steps.

At last they arrived at the hut which Donatello had been admiring since it had caught his sight on the horizon.

"Well, we're here." He unhooked the wooden door, and pushed back the netted curtain, "Welcome to my humble home."

Inside the hut it was cozy yet Spartan; various useful household items adorned the living space, fashioned from the animals, plants and mud from the land around them.

"Heck Leo, if I had known you could do like this, maybe I would have put you to work in the lab more."

Leonardo grinned, the first in a long, long time.

"Right."

...


	9. Chapter 9

BEACON OF HOPE

The last of the light faded away casting the lands into a dark shadow. Donatello sipped on the lemony tea from the northern highlands as Leonardo stoked the fire inside the hut. He looked thoughtfully into the cup as little leaves trembled inside.

For the last few hours he had been gently tinkering with the broken locator beacon and had come to realize the full extent of the damage, and that the few tools he had brought with him were practically useless against the Utrom technology.

Leonardo sat on his bed, inspecting the blade of one of his katana, patiently waiting the news. He stored it carefully and turned to his brother.

"So, what's the plan, Donnie?"

"We have a problem. During our little, uh… _altercation_ on my arrival, the circuitry for the temporal lock was damaged. I might be able to fix that. But I'm afraid the power cell is beyond repair. You sliced through it, to be precise. We're going to need a battery. A big one. If we can just send out a signal of our 4D co-ordinates, the professor might able to open a portal from his end."

Leonardo dropped his head into his hands.

"Donnie, I'm sorry. To think we may be both stuck here..." He frowned. "So, any ideas?"

"Not yet." He glanced at the parts sitting on the low lying table and yawned. "I know this is a bitter pill to swallow, but it might be best to wait until morning. The jump back here felt made me feel like I've been through a compactor."

"I remember the feeling." Leonardo empathized. He slumped back on his bed. "Another night isn't going to hurt."

From his chair Donatello peered out of the window into the starry expanse above.

"Wow, the constellations are all different." He said to himself. "Even the moon looks different! It's missing some of its formations. Incredible." He rested his head against a wall, his eyes lighting up at the spectacular sight before him.

Leonardo chuckled, "You know, out of everyone I thought you'd like this place. You should see what's on the other side of this wall." He stared at the ceiling, feeling closer to home than ever before. "Don?" He looked over at his brother who had dozed off, his eyes closed to the world, his mind dancing with star patterned dreams.

…


	10. Chapter 10

UTROM INGENUITY

The dawn came quickly. A cool breeze stirred Donatello awake, and he turned towards the pale green light drowsily. The hut, he immediately noticed, was laced with the smoke from the fireplace and the smell of food. He shivered and reached for a blanket that wasn't there. For the first time since the disappearance of Leonardo over year earlier, Donatello found that he had slept deeply. Outside, he could hear Leonardo running through some training exercises, a thud of earth, the singing of a blade in the air. Typical.

Uncannily sensing that his brother was awake, Leonardo finished his routine and made his way back inside. With a quick, single movement, the swords were slotted back into their sheaths. He hovered momentarily in the doorway, ensuring his brother was awake.

"You're up. Have something to eat. The sooner we get moving the better." Leonardo indicated at the mashed roots flecked with shelled bivalves.

Donatello yawned, picking cautiously at the bowl with chopsticks.

"Hm, it certainly looks interesting."

"It's not so bad once you get used to it."

The expression on Donatello's face after he had sampled it said otherwise.

"Tastes _nutritious_." He replied diplomatically, trying to quietly grind the traces of dirt between his molars.

"I'll give you the recipe, sometime." Leonardo replied wryly. He shot a glance at the broken locater beacon, his objective written all over his face.

Donatello shrugged apologetically, "I'm still working on it. We might be holed up here another day, at least. And that's before I figure out how to get an alternate power supply."

Leonardo began pacing "Maybe we could construct some kind of makeshift battery? There are dozens of salt ponds further east."

"Yeah. I thought of something along those lines, but Utrom technology is _powerful_. I'm not sure we can generate the amount of energy we need to run this thing." He held the two fragments of the beacon in his hand and frowned.

"Wait, I think I recall something the professor was once telling to me about."

Donatello walked over to the fireplace where Leonardo had left a bowl of water simmering for their tea. He held the pieces over the steam and brought the parts closer together. Suddenly threadlike tendrils began to protrude from the damaged sections and began to knit together. They fused rapidly, leaving a faintly metallic odor behind.

"Look!"

Leonardo leaned in, astonished. "That _is_ something, alright."

Donatello's voice quickened with excitement, "I remember now: he was describing the inbuilt immunity of their bio-mechanical equipment. They were designed on a nanoparticle level to heal themselves. And I think it works even faster in a humid environment."

Leonardo's brow shot up, "So we make a sauna, we've got a ticket home."

"Yeah," Donatello said grinning, "It might take a while to completely regenerate, though - this cut's a doozy."

Leonardo looked abashed, "Listen, Don. I'm sorry about-"

"Forget it." He joked. "It's ancient history."

…


	11. Chapter 11

THE JOURNEY HOME

After quickly constructing a small steam basket over a pot of simmering water, they had left the beacon to reform in the damp warmth. It had been fusing together for several hours as they readied themselves for departure, and despite their one way trip, Leonardo couldn't help but pack things safely away, leaving all in order.

"We can't take anything." Donatello explained, "It could potentially mess with the time line, or cause temporal anomalies."

Leonardo nodded, but his only real temptation was his talisman. He showed his brother the small rock.

"It's beautiful. I believe it's a meteorite of all things. Pallasite. It's been broken along this edge during impact so you can see inside of it." Donatello marveled the stone's reflective facets. He placed it down. "To think, out of all the things on Earth you were drawn to, you picked up something from outside of it. Kind of neat, huh?"

"A little spooky, actually." Leonardo admitted.

"Well, maybe we did find each other, in other ways."

Leonardo balked at the thought, "That's a little mystical, coming from you Donnie."

Donatello dismissed the observation with a knowing shrug, "Even I know that you can't measure the bonds of family with a ruler."

Leonardo nodded, "That you can't." he agreed.

A low bleeping sound began emitting from the beacon. Donatello walked over to the bowl of simmering water, and removed the beacon from the basket, kicking out the flames. It dripped with moisture, but within seconds the surface turned tacky, and then completely dry. He inspected it briefly.

"It's ready." He pressed a button recessed into its side and it whirred to life. "Are you?"

Leonardo took one last look around his mud hut, the embers smothered in the hearth, the A-frame laden with smoked fish outside the porthole, and out onto the plains where the ponds glistened placidly. His mind came back into his body and he reached back to touch the hilts of his katana, reassuring their presence.

"Let's get out of here."

Donatello pressed a sequence of buttons, and a trill of beeps responded as a circle of light engulfed them both. As they faded out of existence and reformed slowly within the lair, Leonardo could see, at first, the ghostly shapes of his brothers and beloved master, and knew he had finally arrived back home - but for a fleeting moment which came the thought, wondering if he had ever woken from sinking depths of the lake at all.


End file.
